The Supercharged Family Road Trip

Oh, the family road trip.  I remember it oh so fondly wearily from my own childhood.  Mom packed weeks of well-thought out games, books, stories and activities so that we wouldn't lose our minds staring out the window at miles and miles of flat land and a few scattered cows.  Despite all those little extras, things meant to stimulate and occupy a kid for hours, I hated the road trip.  I always got car sick, couldn't really read, was bored out of my mind, and eventually ended up goofing around so wildly with my siblings that Mom and Dad would end up with a one-arm-over-the-seat cry of, "If I have to come back there...." 

Well things are different now.  Welcome to the 21st Century road trip ala Grateful Twin Mom.  Here's how we do it these days.  Wired in.  That's right; you heard me.  Plugged in, dialed in, each with his or her own little screen or headphones.  Not talking to each other--not commenting on scenery--not yelling, crying, or complaining.  T1 and T2 got iPads (for their birthday/Hanukkah/Christmas for-the-rest-of-their-lives) from an extraordinarily benevolent aunt and uncle.  Whole music libraries, math games, Angry Birds (enough said), 5 movies, and 3 chapter books (including A.A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh) provide enough entertainment for weeks, let alone a few hours up I-5 in one super cool laptop device.  DG and I listen to audiobooks on iPods and occasionally, DG will blast E Street Radio on the satellite radio (loves him some Bruce Springsteen).  But when we're plugged in, it's silent in the car.

Now I know the experts feel that screen time is detrimental for kids (twins are 8 now), especially young ones, and that little brains are marred permanently by too much exposure to video images (whether educational or not).  I know that confined spaces are supposed to provide great, built-in opportunities for interacting--commiseration for the shared cramped experience and all, but somehow, this seems better to me.  No one asks me, "Are we there yet?" or "Can we stop? I'm thirsty."  A well-stocked snack bag, bottles of water, and one or two bathroom breaks and we all arrive at our destination happy, still in love with each other and excited to be where we are instead of weary from the trip.

So I ask you, are a few extra hours of screen time too high a price to pay for such satisfaction on arrival? Will there be increased melt downs because of the change in brain chemistry from too many hours with an electronic device? Are there microwaves and radiation seeping their way into my children's bloodstreams because of extra exposure?  I worry about all of this.  But part of being a parent is letting go of the fear that makes us second guess EVERYTHING and just being.  The supercharged, plugged in road trip is just another way that we are just living. 

And while I wonder how all this will affect my children as they grow, I'm guessing when they're grown and look back on the family road trip, they won't be lamenting Mom's angry voice telling them to be quiet and settle down.  That's what I'm wishing.

Okay, gotta go charge all my electronic toys. We're on the road in 2 hours....
 

Christmas Memories

Remember when you were little, and there's that one thing from Christmas, or Hanukkah, or whatever winter holiday you celebrate that really stands out in your mind as the most funny, or heartbreaking, or heartwarming?  I think everybody has a memory like that.  I've got several.  Like the year my dad left and my 10-year-old brother put up all the Christmas lights by himself.  My mother was so touched--at least I thought she was touched, but it was probably more a mixture of pride in her resourceful son, guilt in her divorce decision leaving us without a "Christmas light hanger," and sadness at her first Christmas as a single parent.  Or the year my brother, sister and I stayed up all night--I mean literally all night--waiting for Christmas morning.  We piled into my room with blankets and stories; we were all teenagers at the time.  We still talk about it.  Every holiday season, I call my sister and say, "Hey, remember this song from that album that we listened to every Christmas?  Remember the one with the red cover?"

As my own kids are now the age when Christmas memories are being formed, I wonder what they'll remember when they get older.  Will in be this year, when Los Angeles was deluged with rain storms of epic proportions that have kept us inside for days?  They've moved from watching Pokemon on TV, to playing Pokemon on the DS, to playing Pokemon cards in T1's room.  (Seriously, is Pokemon really that compelling?)  Honestly, I think they're completely loving this unstructured time just to be kids without all the school, homework, activities, and playdates.  Or will it be decorating the tree and uncovering the beauty of ornaments that slip their minds as the months between Christmases pass? 

This was the first year that I think they'll remember decorating the tree.  I decided to let T1 put on the tree topper.  He is told so much that he needs to be careful, keep his hands to himself, play nicely and gently.  I thought I'd give him a special task that would usually be bestowed upon a family member with excellent dexterity and calm, two things T1 doesn't really have mastery over yet.  My thinking was, let him have something that calls upon his burgeoning maturity and bridges him from little kid to big kid.  Maybe I thought too soon.



Yes, the tree topper broke, and then all hell broke loose.  I got upset with DG, who was upset because he had a feeling that T1 couldn't do it, and then T1 went crying out of the room and hid because I yelled.  Definitely a Christmas memory I'm not proud of, but here it is, for all of you--familly foibles and all.  Off to Stat's we went to get another tree topper.  And, Christmas memory restored.



Maybe it would have been better if we waited a year for this.  Maybe he would have been just that much bigger and could reach the tree top better.  Maybe we would pick a tree without a knot sticking out that would allow the topper to slip right over the top.  Maybe, who knows.  But this is the memory we have.  This is the one I'll remember and I'm sure he'll remember and we'll laugh, "Remember that year we broke the tree topper? Hahahahaha"

It reminds me of that scene at the end of A Christmas Story.  Ralphie's family Christmas dinner is ruined by an unfortunate incident with some neighborhood dogs and the Christmas ham.  They go to a Chinese restaurant and while the waiters are singing Christmas carols, food is brought to their table.  The camera zooms in and they're smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves.  The voice over describes the memory and you can see that this is the Christmas memory that they'll remember, not the missed ham.  I think of our tree topper the same way.  Every year, when I unwrap it, I'll remember the successful adornment and think about how T1 grew up a little that year.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.  May the memories you make this year be joyous ones, and if they're not, I hope there's at least some humor.

Little Boys Are Made Of What?

What's that they say?  Something about worms, and snails, and puppy dog tails?  Whatever.  What I found out today is that little boys are made of an energy source that if harnessed could power all of Los Angeles.  We had T1's Phenomenal Pokemon Party today with 15 boys and about a thousand Pokemon cards.  Throw in a little sugar and it makes for a banner birthday celebration and an exhausting day for parents.

Highlights:

1. Boys can find fun in dirt.

2. Wrestling each other is a mandatory activity

3. Boys can learn the most intricate details of a Pokemon card within 1 minute of being exposed to one.

4. Trading said Pokemon cards is pretty much what they live for.

5. If they are so lucky as to trade Pokemon through an electronic device, all the better.

This pretty much sums it up.  T1 had a great time, and who know that all his friends would be so into this renaissance that Pokemon is having.  Well, I guess he did. 

Boredom, a Boy, and a Roll of Foil

Yesterday I went to pick up the kids for another marathon afternoon of soccer, karate, PTA functions, etc. When I arrived, I hustled T2 to change into soccer clothes, and T1 started in with the whining.  "Where's my DS? I want to play DS?  Why, Mommy? Why can't I play DS  Whhhhaaaaaaa."  This is a battle we have every week when T2 has soccer practice.  T1 rushes through his homework (that he does sitting on the bleachers) and then begs to play with some screen--the DS, his "Pokewalker," my Droid.  We're in a park, for God's sake!  Short of having two broken legs, he should be playing.  PLAYING.  Isn't that what little boys are supposed to do in the park?

Last week, he started in with the "I'm bored..." bull-sh*^%.  Oh no you didn't.  You did NOT just tell me you were bored?!  Boy, you don't know what bored is.  I showed him the perfectly climbable tree right. next. to. him.  I wanted to start with the, "When I was a kid, we found our own fun in mud pies and sticks. Blah, blah, blah," but I caught myself.  Didn't want to let on how OLD I am.  He did end up climbing that tree, and he had fun.  Lo and behold--no longer bored.

Yesterday, once he realized that I wasn't going to go back on my original command about staring at a video game in the park, he knew he had to come up with something else.  Enter this:

 This is a foil ball that T1 made in art class with some leftover foil.  Notice the little indentations for a face?  Eyes, nose, mouth?  It's a guy screaming for a body.  I suggested that we go to the store and buy some more foil.  He could make body parts and put them together.  Toothpicks become the "bones."  He said, "you can glue it for me," to which I replied, "Yeah, and the glue can be like the joints, muscle, and skin."

 

Then, Foil Guy together.  

 

T1 decided the foil man needed a "toy" and he started constructing this: 

Cut to home.  Here I am singeing my fingers with a hot glue gun to get the "muscles and joints" on the foil guy. Fortunately, the toothpicks are providing excellent structural integrity.

 

And then, it was done. 

 

 This little project is a wonderful testament to what kids can do with a little imagination.  T1 is so proud of his creation.  I can tell because at 10 pm and he came out from bed to ask me if it was finished.  He played with it for a minute, making it totter awkwardly across the kitchen counter.  The smile on his face said it all.  He made it--from nothing more than $3 worth of household products.  And he wasn't bored.

I don't want to sound like I never let him play video games or watch TV.  That's just not me.  God knows the TV has a sacred place in our house.  Like everything else, I am in charge of creating the balance.  There's a time and place for video games: when Mom's getting her hair done, at the bank during the signing of house loan documents, or when I'm engrossed in Real Housewives of New Jersey (okay, just kidding on that last one).  The park is not one of those places.  And I can't help but think that he's silently thanking me somewhere in his subconscious for this little respite from the technological age. Long live Foil Guy!

Video Games

Note to self: Next time you complain because your husband and children love to play Wii for HOURS on the weekends, remember how amazingly satisfying it is to read, write, and take time for yourself. I'm just saying....